


Of Eclairs, Feathers, and Complex Reactions to Trauma

by oneatatime



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, after everything, being touch starved kinda sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: “Do you know,” Aziraphale said, his voice muffled in the shoulder of Crowley’s jacket, “that when humans go through trauma, they can be quite calm and competent throughout, but then the terror comes out later, as it must?”





	Of Eclairs, Feathers, and Complex Reactions to Trauma

After it was all over, and everything had been restored, and the not-quite-apocalypsean dust had been allowed to settle, Aziraphale trotted after Crowley into the back room of his bookshop. The bookshop had been open for a good ninety minutes today so Aziraphale had closed it quite happily. It was afternoon tea time, after all. Sunshine glinted through the cloudy old window, and there was just enough room for the two of them, various piles of books, and some old furniture. 

He rubbed his hands together excitedly as Crowley opened the box of eclairs on the little table, and then –

Then he threw himself at Crowley, hugging him tightly. 

Oh.

Yes. Yes, this was correct. 

“…Angel?” Crowley said cautiously. His body was tense inside the circle of Aziraphale’s arms, though he wasn’t shoving him away. Aziraphale thought to himself that Crowley would probably cope much more easily if Aziraphale simply stabbed him. 

“Do you know,” Aziraphale said, his voice muffled in the shoulder of Crowley’s jacket, “that when humans go through trauma, they can be quite calm and competent throughout, but then the terror comes out later, as it must?” 

“I, uh, I suppose?” 

And you haven’t been touched nearly enough, and now I’ve _seen_ how you’ve been treated by those ‘people’, and I didn’t know I was going to do this, but I’m glad I did, Aziraphale thought, but didn’t quite say. 

“Touch can help. I think you need it.” He chose his next words very carefully. Perhaps it was an unfair manipulation of Crowley, but it… was also entirely true, if he were to be honest with himself. “I need it, too.” 

As expected, Crowley said in that soft, somewhat embarrassed, not knowing what the h- what was going on, voice, “Oh. Then, here.” 

His arms came up around Aziraphale, and Aziraphale settled in against him with a happy sigh. There wasn’t quite a chorus of heavenly angels, but there was a definite increase in the effulgence in the small, dingy room, and a vine began to wind its way up the outside of the window. 

“Oops.” Aziraphale made himself stop glowing.

Crowley’s fingers spread over his back. Oh, it was lovely. “Really, angel?” he asked with amusement. “Just from a hug?”

“It’s a good hug, Crowley!” 

It wasn’t the first time they’d hugged, but they hadn’t done it nearly enough. And not at all since Adam had given Aziraphale his own body back again. Now that Crowley had relaxed a little, Aziraphale was able to enjoy the familiar scents of him, fine wine and flowers. The burned scent had receded, perhaps overwhelmed by the delicate mix of flavours from the eclairs that Crowley had bought for him.

(The new patissier down the street did simply _scandalous_ things with cream.) 

“’sokay. Making you light up is one of my reasons for living.” 

There was too much quiet, genuine emotion in that for it to be entirely a joke, for all that Crowley probably intended it that way. Aziraphale found his own eyes were damp, and he sniffled a little, nestling further into his demon. He started rubbing Crowley’s back. 

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale whispered. He wasn’t sure what he was apologising for. Perhaps for not having stopped it all sooner. Perhaps for saying no to Alpha Centauri. Perhaps for Crowley’s pain. Perhaps for making a mess of Crowley’s jacket. Perhaps for all of it. 

A snort into his ear, then Crowley’s cheek was pressed lightly against his hair. “Yeahhhhh, you should be. You scared the he- life out of me-” 

It started out jocular, but ended up on a rising inhalation, and then Crowley started to shake. Aziraphale sucked his lower lip between his teeth, and kept rubbing his back, tugging backwards just a smidge, to take as much of Crowley’s weight as his demon would allow. 

Aziraphale let his wings manifest, and he wrapped them around his demon lightly, cocooning him in feathers. It was some minutes before Crowley’s silent, utterly silent, sobs began to subside. Aziraphale had one hand stroking his hair, and the other on his back, and his own eyes were not dry. 

Crowley pulled back enough to see his face, and whatever he saw made his lips crinkle in a watery smile. 

Aziraphale pulled his wings back, and dusted off the front of Crowley’s jacket. “Sorry, sorry, made a terrible mess,” he said, and Crowley’s smile just got wider. Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s face, and leaned in and up (frustratingly tall!) to brush his lips lightly across Crowley’s. 

Hs other hand moved to Crowley’s ear, and he produced an eclair. 

“What’s this?” he gasped in amazement. “How did that get there? Oooooo…” 

“You picked it up from the table,” Crowley said immediately. He sat down with a sigh. 

“No, it’s magic.” 

Aziraphale sat down opposite him, and opened the wine. 

“It was never in my ear. Give it here.” 

Aziraphale handed the eclair over the table. Crowley took a bite, eyes twinkling over the top of it with exasperation and fondness. 

Aziraphale bit into his own – oh, simply scrumptious – and said cheerfully, “I hope you’ve cleaned your ears out recently.”

“Shuuuut up, angel.” 

He had cream on his nose. Whoops. Aziraphale went cross-eyed trying to see, and dabbed it off with a napkin. There. 

“It could be rather nasty, otherwise,” he continued happily. 

Crowley leaned across the table and dabbed cream back onto his nose. “Shut UP, angel.”


End file.
